


lost and insecure, you found me

by thekaidonovskys



Series: After the Drift [14]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Being Lost, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/pseuds/thekaidonovskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because he has been running - that much is clear. He’s not in his bed, and he’s not in his house. </p>
<p>In fact, Newt has no idea where he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost and insecure, you found me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [highfunctioningenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfunctioningenius/gifts).



> Prompt based off a discussion around wanting Newt to go out in the middle of the night and get lost and not be able to find his way home. Tweaked it a bit to suit.

When Newt opens his eyes, it’s very dark, and that’s normal.

But it’s also very cold and a bit windy and smells like trees and dead leaves, and that’s a bit less normal. 

He’s also standing up, and that’s about when things start to become very abnormal indeed.

The last vestiges of the nightmare are still racing through his brain - _the chase, Otachi, Hannibal disappearing into that mouth out of nowhere and then running, running, hard, fast, gonna die, not gonna make it_ \- and Newt shakes his head hard to try and snap himself out of it. He’s breathing fast, but he’s not sure if that’s a panic attack threatening to set in or the fact that he’s been running.  

Because he has been running - that much is clear. He’s not in his bed, and he’s not in his house. 

In fact, Newt has no idea where he is.

The sleepwalking isn’t a recent phenomenon. As a child, after being discovered sleeping dangerously close to the road one too many times, his father had put up a child gate that kept him from leaving the hallway. In college he would often wake up aimlessly walking around campus - even in his sleep he could manage to unbolt the door to his dorm room and swipe himself out of the building with ease.

In the ‘dome, things had settled a bit, simply because any sleep he got was snatched and light. Deep sleep was reserved for the end of a week after staying up for sixty hour stretches with three hour naps, and even during those Newt never really displaced himself much - his bedroom door or bathroom was usually as far as he’d make it. And then he’d started sharing a bed with Hermann and they’d moved in together and Newt had started sleeping deeply and properly and apparently well enough that he didn’t want to wander about in his sleep.

And of course, just when he thought it was over, he’d woken up one night standing in the kitchen, one hand on the fridge door (which was _freezing_ and probably had been enough to startle him to awareness) and Hermann standing next to him, who had at least had the sense to not attempt to wake him up. Tired and a little disoriented, Newt had allowed Hermann to take him back to bed and in the morning they’d discussed what to do. 

In the end, the decision was made that, since Hermann had woken up as soon as Newt had gotten out of bed, at least that meant somebody was going to be aware of his nocturnal actions, and as long as Hermann could contain him to the house then there shouldn’t be too much of a problem. After all, there wasn’t much else they could do.

The sleepwalking episodes had been getting rarer too, Newt thinks absently as he wraps his arms around himself, beginning to shiver. The last one had been a couple of months ago and he’d only made it halfway down the hall before turning himself around and going back to bed anyway. 

And now this.

Nightmares don’t always trigger sleepwalking, but they always exacerbate it. Usually Newt wakes from bad dreams in bed with Hermann right there; sometimes he wakes from bad dreams in the shower or under the kitchen table with Hermann waiting nearby for him to come out. Hermann’s described the scene to him - a sense of franticness, of needing to hide or run, of Hermann’s soothing voice sometimes helping but often not, and nothing to do about it until the dream ends except make sure Newt’s safe and doesn’t run away or hurt himself in any way. Which he does admirably. 

Tonight, however, something’s gone awry and as Newt wakes himself up more and tries to figure everything out, he remembers the problem. Hermann had been verging on a migraine all evening, so Newt had insisted he take a strong painkiller so he could get an uninterrupted night’s sleep and feel better in the morning. Hermann had been out like a light within fifteen minutes and Newt had been assured that he wouldn’t stir.

That’s rather unfortunate for Newt. Because if Hermann had been sleeping as usual, he would’ve woken up, and might’ve been able to calm Newt down before he reached the point of fleeing, or been able to keep the doors locked and make sure Newt didn’t get outside.

But Hermann wasn’t sleeping as usual and Newt’s gotten outside and he’s gotten quite far outside and now…

Now he doesn’t know where he is. He’s surrounded by trees and they’re not the kinds of trees that are familiar to him, not the kind in the backyard or near the facility. He spins in a slow circle and no, there’s no light, no sign of anything but trees. He’s in the middle of some goddamn forest and he’s got no idea where he is. 

He’s lost. 

Newt holds himself a bit tighter and tries to quell his immediate urge to burst into tears, because that's not going to help anything. Instead he pats the pockets of his sweatpants, then sighs when they come up empty. Sometimes he grabs his phone or keys out of habit, but this time apparently he was too caught in the nightmare to think of doing that.

Not only does he not have a phone, he also has no shirt or shoes, and his feet are throbbing. He’s clearly cut and scraped them on his run and the wounds are probably matted with dirt by now. There are a few scrapes on his arms and chest too and, as his eyes slowly adjust, he does his best to examine them before the cold has him wrapping his arms around himself once more. 

And now that he has an inventory of everything he _doesn’t_ have, he needs to work out what to do.

Waiting to be found isn’t an option. Hermann’s not going to realize he’s gone until the morning, and even then, Newt could be _anywhere_. At the very least, he has to get himself to the road, wherever that might be, and figure out where he is. He knows his own levels of endurance and, even in the adrenaline-filled panic of a nightmare, knows he can’t have run that far. He’ll find his way out eventually.

Fear freezes him for a few seconds longer, though - because he’s really on his own on this one. Nobody’s looking for him, nobody’s going to magically appear and help him find the way home. He has to do it himself.

And perhaps it’s a good thing that the fear freezes him, because that's when Newt notices a rather squashed area of foliage just in front of him. A bit further along, there are some broken twigs, and bushes with the appearance of having been pushed back violently. 

Apparently he’s left himself a trail to get back by. 

It’s not an easy trail to follow. His feet are stinging with every step, for one, and the path often becomes hard to distinguish. He turns back a few times, just about loses himself again, and spends half the time biting his lip hard to keep from crying. But he keeps thinking of home, of getting back to Hermann, being able to creep back in and lie down next to him and go back to sleep. 

Presuming he manages to get home before morning, that is. Newt has no idea what time it is, but there are no signs of sunrise - unfortunate, as that would have helped him pinpoint a direction much better than the shrubs he’s flattened - so he can only presume it’s still the dead of night. It feels like the dead of night anyway; his only consolation is that it isn’t winter yet or else he probably wouldn’t have woken up from his sleep at all.

And that’s too dark a thought to be having in such a dark forest, so Newt focuses on getting out. 

The trees slowly get thinner and Newt’s trail of destruction peters out but that’s okay, trees are usually thinner near a road so he’s pretty sure as long as he keeps going in a straight line he’ll be able to find it. He doesn’t know which road, or where their house will be in relation to it, but a road is certainly better than trees.

That’s when he hears the unmistakable sound of a car, faint but definitely up ahead. And there’s a flicker of light, headlights, only brief but they give him the hope he needs.

Newt keeps moving. For a moment he wonders whether that car could have been Hermann, then reminds himself that Hermann isn’t coming. He’ll be able to tell Hermann about it in the morning and be fussed over then, and that thought presses him on faster. The sooner he finds the road, the sooner he’ll get home to Hermann. 

Except when he finally gets to the road, his heart sinks.

He knows where he is. But he still has no idea.

There’s a road that begins a quarter of a mile from their house and stretches a good two miles in the other direction. It twists and turns and is blanketed by trees on either side and there are no signs, no identifying marks, no way of telling whether Newt’s just around the corner from the turnoff to their house or two miles away. He doesn’t even know which way is home. 

He’s going to cry. He’s really going to cry this time because it’s the dead of night and he’s cold and alone and lost and Hermann’s fast asleep back home and nobody knows where he is or how to find him and it’s too much. It’s all too much and Newt finds the nearest tree, leans against it for support, and cries. 

It’s ridiculous, he tells himself as he does. He’s a grown man who should be more than capable of taking care of himself, who shouldn’t dissolve into a trembling mess in the face of adversity. But this is more than adversity, this is hopelessness, this is being lost and frightened and hurt and tired and _needing_ to be found. He’s not codependent on Hermann, he _can_ cope on his own but… but right now he needs him. 

Because some things are too much to handle alone. 

Newt knows he’ll have to begin walking soon, to choose a direction and hope for the best. Either way he’ll find people eventually - either their end of the road, with Hermann and home; or the other end where the town is, where he can call Hermann to come and get him. 

But for a moment he just lingers. Waiting - he’s not sure what for. Perhaps he hears it but doesn’t quite register.

Either way, there’s a sudden flicker of light against the tree trunks up ahead, slowly moving and bending, and then streaming across the road, growing nearer and brighter.

There’s another car coming.  

Newt squints against the headlights, considers his options, then begins waving. Even if the person refuses to stop - and yeah, Newt definitely wouldn’t blame them, he probably wouldn’t pull over for a half-naked guy in the middle of the night either - they might slow down enough for him to find out which way he needs to go to get back to civilization. 

The car slows, then pulls over just in front of him. Newt closes his eyes against the full-force of the beams, then opens them again when they’re shut off. Through the spots dancing in front of his eyes, he can see the drivers door open and then a figure hurrying towards him and _oh god, could it actually be, please let it be_ -

“Hermann?” he asks.

And then there are arms around him and Hermann’s holding him tighter than he’s ever held Newt before and he’s warm but he’s shaking and after a moment Newt realizes it’s fear, he’s been afraid. “Thank god,” Hermann says quietly, his voice ragged. “I thought - I had no idea… oh, darling, I’m just so relieved you’re okay.”

Newt clings to him, hands fisting in the back of Hermann’s parka. “ _Hermann_ ,” he says again, this time with relief and desperation and a little bit of neediness. “You - you found me.”

“Of course I did. Of course.”

Hermann falls silent, just holding him, and Newt closes his eyes and presses closer, feeling Hermann’s heart beating hard and fast, almost as fast as his own. He’s crying again, but quietly, tears spilling from his eyes and soaking into Hermann’s sweater, and Hermann doesn’t let him go.

Eventually he has to, of course - it’s the middle of the night, they’re standing on the side of the road and Newt’s definitely not dressed for the climate - but Hermann still stays close when he pulls away, keeping his hands on Newt’s shoulders as he checks him over. He only moves away long enough to remove his parka and put it around Newt’s shoulders. “You must be freezing,” he says softly. 

Newt nods. He doesn’t really want to say much right now; he feels small and tired and just wants to be home with Hermann where everything is warm and safe. 

He’s not quite sure he even believes Hermann is here. 

Thankfully Hermann knows him well enough - knows him better than anybody else ever has or will. “Let’s get you home,” he says, and wraps an arm around Newt’s shoulders, leading him gently to the car. “I’ll get you warmed up and cleaned up and then back to bed, okay?” 

Another nod. Hermann opens the door and Newt gets in, finally able to take the pressure off his feet. He lifts one and looks at it, wincing at the matted dirt and blood he finds. “Ouch,” he whispers.

“Ouch indeed,” Hermann says as he gets in the other side. “I’ll take care of you, love, don’t worry.”

That’s exactly what Newt needs to hear. He tugs the parka closer around himself and checks the time on the dashboard. 1:12 - earlier than he'd expected. “How’s your head?” he asks.

Hermann shoots him the fondest of exasperated looks. “The least of your concerns right now,” he says, then sighs when Newt doesn’t reply. “It’s fine, darling. Much better.”

Newt nods, then looks out the window. He watches the trees go by and then blinks, startled, when they end. “I wasn’t that far away,” he murmurs.

“About half a mile,” Hermann says. “To my relief. I had no idea how long you had been gone.”

Newt shrugs. “Dunno either,” he says and _fuck_ his voice is still so small and timid and he can see the worried looks he’s getting from Hermann but he can’t help it. He hadn’t been this scared since Otachi, and even then at least he had known where he was, had been able to call Hermann and get him over there. This is the first time in a very long time that he’s been lost and afraid and alone and the quiet fear and sadness is still there. He’s _sad_ that this happened. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying again until they pull up at the house and Hermann puts his arms around him. “It’s okay,” he says gently. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Newt says, because he _does_ , he’s just still… 

He shakes his head and sighs, wiping his eyes. “I know,” he repeats. “Can we go inside?”

“Of course. Are you okay to walk?”

“Yeah, I think. Can -“ and the words stick in his throat in a way he’s not used to - Newt never has a problem asking for things from Hermann, especially not something this trivial. He clears his throat and pushes on. “Can you help me, though?”

“Yes, of course.” Hermann grabs his cane and gets out, hurrying around to Newt’s door. He steadies himself, then helps Newt to his feet, grimacing when Newt winces. “Only a few steps,” he says. “Then we’ll be inside and I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Hermann’s true to his word. There’s only the briefest of pauses at the door while Hermann opens it, which has Newt raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t lock up?” he asks.

“It wasn’t a priority. I was too concerned for finding you.”

“Oh,” Newt says. He’s not sure what else _to_ say.

Hermann sits him down on the couch and looks at him for a moment. “Okay?” he asks, and Newt shrugs a little. “I’ll take that as good enough for now,” Hermann says and turns towards the hall. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Newt doesn’t really do anything while Hermann’s gone. He wraps his arms around himself even though he’s warm in Hermann’s parka, and just sort of stares in the direction of the door, waiting for Hermann to come back. 

Hermann returns pretty quickly with a large tub of water, moving slowly and carefully without his cane. Newt starts up to help him, but Hermann gives him a look. “Stay right there,” he says. “I’m taking care of you, remember?” 

“You don’t have to.”

Hermann puts the tub down, then sits down next to Newt and fixes him with an intense look. “Newton,” he says gently. “First of all, I _do_ have to, because I am your partner and that comes with responsibilities. There may be no formalised vows like the ones taken in marriage, but by being here with you, I have still promised certain things to you - one of those is to take care of you when you need it. Which you do tonight. And even without that, I want to look after you. But I will only do it if you are okay with me helping.”

Newt closes his eyes - _god_ , now he’s fucked up and made Hermann think he’s not wanted. “I am,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “I am, really, I want you to, I…”

Hermann’s hands cover his. “This has shaken you badly,” he says - a statement, and without condemnation. “I can understand your fear, but is there more to this? Something more than finding yourself lost?”

Newt shakes his head. Then nods. “Yeah,” he admits, tentatively looking at Hermann again. “I - I thought you weren’t gonna come. And I tried really hard to do it on my own but - but god I’m glad you came when you did because I needed you, Hermann, I really did and I can’t - I shouldn’t - I know. I know it’s… I know I should be able to -“

“Hush, darling,” Hermann murmurs. “It’s okay to need help. You were lost and frightened, and I know you would have managed on your own, but you would have suffered more. I’m glad you didn’t.”

Newt nods. “I don’t want you to think I can’t cope.”

“Oh, my dear. I would _never_ think that. Sometimes you just need someone to be there with you, to help take the weight off your shoulders - other times you need someone to step right in and take it all away. None of that changes the fact that you can do it on your own, it’s just easier when someone helps you through it. I know you can handle things; I know how brave you are.” Newt smiles a little and Hermann returns it. “That’s better,” he says. “I’m glad to see you smiling again.”

“Sorry, I know I’ve been…” Newt shrugs, not really sure what words he’s looking for. “It just got to me,” he finishes a bit lamely. 

Hermann just nods. Then he leans in, presses a kiss to Newt’s forehead, and stands. “Let me tend to your feet now, and then we can go to bed.”

“They’re gonna be gross,” Newt warns, slipping his feet into the water as Hermann settles himself on the ground. He winces a little, then sighs contentedly. “Oh, that’s warm.”

“As if I’d give you cold water.” Hermann rolls up his sleeves, then reaches into the tub. His hand brushes against the top of Newt’s foot, who squirms, eliciting an eyebrow raise. “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” Newt says, very unconvincingly.

Hermann smirks. “I’ll remember that,” he says, and turns his attention to the water.

Newt tips his head back and closes his eyes. It hurts, but it’s the good kind of hurt that means it’s gonna get better, and Hermann is always gentle with his hands. In fact, he’s gentle enough that Newt dozes a little, and is only brought back to reality by Hermann lightly stroking the bridge of his foot, making Newt squirm harder. “Hey!” he protests.

Hermann smiles up at him. “Just waking you up,” he says. “Not for long though, I promise.”

“Speaking of waking up,” Newt says as he lifts his feet out of the water and onto a towel, “how’d you wake up? You should’ve been out all night." 

“Even the deepest of sleeps can be broken by cold weather,” Hermann says, beginning to gently dry his feet. “You left the front door open.”

“Sorry,” Newt says before he really registers what he’s saying.

Hermann just looks at him. “You’re apologising for giving me the means to wake up and come and find you?" 

“Okay, no, not really. I’m sorry you had to wake up like that, though. I know you hate the cold.”

“I can endure the cold for you.”

Newt smiles. “God I’m lucky to have you.”

He can tell Hermann’s trying to suppress that adorably big smile of his, the one that makes his eyes go crinkly, and Newt just smiles more at that. “And I you,” he says. “Would you like to go to bed?”

Newt nods. “Please.”

“Of course. Come, then.”

Newt insists on taking the water away first and not letting Hermann do it again because he can look after him too, after all. Then they head back to the bedroom, where Hermann holds his arms out for the parka, which Newt reluctantly gives up. “But it’s warm and comfortable and smells like you,” he complains half-heartedly as Hermann hangs it up. 

Hermann turns back to him, eyebrow raised. “I have it on good authority that I am also all of those things,” he says. 

“Mm, that’s true.” Newt flops down on the bed and sighs contentedly. “It’s good to be back.”

Hermann quickly undresses, then switches off the light and lies down next to him. He tucks the blankets over both of them and then opens his arms, into which Newt moves gratefully. “No leaving this bed for the rest of the night,” he says, his tone playfully stern - but orders from Hermann are something Newt knows better than to take lightly. “I want you to sleep properly and soundly, and I’ll call you in sick to work tomorrow.”

Newt wants to argue, but he knows Hermann will win on this one. “Will you stay home with me?” he asks, and wishes his voice didn’t come out so pitifully _needy_.

Hermann kisses his forehead. “Yes, I will. You need to be cared for.”

And now he feels a bit stupid. “No, it’s okay, you - you can go, I don’t mind -“

“Newton,” Hermann says gently, “it’s okay. There is no shame in needing to be looked after now and again. I couldn’t be there to do that tonight, but I will be here tomorrow to take care of you and give you what you need.”

Newt hugs him hard. “I love you,” he says, and tries to put everything else into the words - _I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad you understand, I’m glad you love me._

“I love you too,” Hermann says softly. “And remember, you’re safe now.” 

He falls asleep to Hermann’s heartbeat, and his dreams are nightmare-free.  

**Author's Note:**

> Don't give me your faves or I will get them lost and scared. 
> 
> Title from "You Found Me"


End file.
